


Got Your Six

by celeste9



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Coma, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been two days since Clint had carried Natasha into the medical wing, unconscious, bleeding from a head wound.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got Your Six

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lsellers (Annariel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/gifts).



> For lsellersfic in Fandom Stocking. Also fills 'coma' on my h/c bingo card, prompting from deinonychus_1.

It had been two days since Clint had carried Natasha into the medical wing, unconscious, bleeding from a head wound. Two days since she had spoken, since she had smiled, since she had done so much as look at Clint.

The doctors said there wasn’t anything more to be done except wait for her to wake up.

So that was what Clint was doing. Waiting.

No one tried to make him leave. Probably they didn’t even want to - he’d needed stitches of his own and this was by far the easiest time they’d ever had getting him to take a break to recover after a mission, so he figured it was actually a win for S.H.I.E.L.D. Sometimes Natasha had other visitors, Hill, May, Coulson. Even Fury once, when Clint had been half-asleep, and he still wasn’t completely sure he hadn’t dreamed it.

But Clint was always there.

He owed it to her. There weren’t a lot of people Clint could count on in his life, but Natasha was one of them. Natasha was the only person he knew that he could _always_ count on. She would always have his back so he was going to have hers. He didn’t want her to wake up alone. Natasha had woken up alone far too often in her life.

“I’m gonna be there for you,” Clint said. “Always.”

Sometimes he talked to her. He figured she couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better. He told her stupid stories about his life in the circus and he told her some of the old tall tales about Coulson and Fury that got passed around S.H.I.E.L.D., ones from before Natasha had been there. He just kept running his mouth off, really, because that was what he did. If Natasha had been awake, she would -

“I miss you,” Clint said. “Please wake up, Tasha, please, don’t leave me with these assholes. I need you.”

Because he did. Fuck but he needed her. He needed to have her at his side on missions but he needed _her_ even more. He needed her to roll her eyes at him when he was being annoying and to tell him to shut up when he wouldn’t stop talking. He needed her to pretend not to smile at his jokes and he needed her unexpected sense of humor.

Natasha understood him like no one else could. She knew what it was like to have dirty things in your past, things you couldn’t run away from no matter how hard you tried, things you were ashamed of. The kinds of things that followed you around like lost puppies and haunted your dreams, the kinds of things you ached to make up for but knew you never could. Clint had red in his ledger, the same as her, and she was the only one who truly got what that meant.

When they had first met, Clint had declined to take the shot. He knew that Natasha would do the same for him, but he also knew that if the time came, if that was what was necessary, if that was what he needed - She would do it. She was the only one who could.

“You know how hard it is to trust someone, Nat? You know how hard it is for _me_ to trust someone? I know you do because it’s the same for you. It isn’t something we give away so easily. But I trust you with my life, with everything. I don’t know how to do this without you anymore. I don’t _want_ to do this without you anymore. I just... I need you.”

Clint lifted Natasha’s hand off the bed and held it between his own. “I need you so much. Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “I love you, I fucking love you, Natasha. Don’t you dare die on me.”

Natasha’s hand twitched.

Startled, Clint dropped his gaze down to their joined hands. Maybe he had imagined it? Except no. He felt it again, and he could _see_ her hand move.

“Tasha?” he said.

But her eyes were still closed. She still looked as though she were sleeping.

Clint was afraid to leave her. What if she woke up, and she was alone? What if she was frightened, and she didn’t know where she was or what was happening? He knew he had to, though, so reluctantly he laid her hand back at her side and stood up so that he could call for a doctor.

-

Natasha woke up slowly. It took far, far longer than Clint had thought it would. In the movies people always just woke up, like they had only been sleeping, but the doctors assured Clint that this was perfectly normal.

At first she didn’t make any sense, like she was still half-caught up in her own head. Her dreams weren’t pleasant ones, but then, they never were.

When she was settled and resting, the S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors left Clint alone with her. He was sitting in the chair by her bedside, just as he had been all the while she was unconscious. 

Natasha turned her head on the pillow so she could look at him. “Did you cry for me, Barton?” The edges of her mouth were turned upwards.

“You fucking wish.”

Her smile grew more distinct. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Softie.” She paused a moment and then she said, “I heard you. What you said.”

Clint stared.

Then he said, “Oh, _crap._ ”

**_End_ **


End file.
